JOGGIN  ERLONG 


PAUL  LAURENCE 
*  4-  DUNBAIL 


Joggin'  Erlong 


Joggin'  Erlong 


By 

Paul  Laurence  Dunbar 


Illustrated  with  Photographs  by 

Leigh  Richmond  Miner 

and  Decorations  by 

John  Rae 


New  York 

Dodd,  Mead  and  Company 
1906 


Copyright 

1896,  1899,  1903,  1905,  1906 
By  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company 

Published,  October,  1906 


The  University  Press,  Cambridge,  U.  S  A. 


TO    MY    FRIEND 
WILLIAM    L.  BLOCHER 

WHO    AIDED    ME    FINANCIALLY 

IN    THE    PUBLICATION    OF 

MY    FIRST     BOOK 

"OAK   AND   IVY" 


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21 


CONTENTS 


Pa, 

Joggin'  Erlong 9 

Sling  Along 15 

Long  Ago 21 

Keep  a  Song  Up  on  the  Way     ....  27 

Philosophy 31 

Noon 37 

The  Voice  of  the  Banjo 41 

The  Real  Question 47 

At  Night 51 

Temptation 57 

Spring  Fever    ' 63 

A  Little  Christmas  Basket 69 

An  Ante-Bellum  Sermon 73 

A  Frolic 83 

A  Plantation  Melody 87 

te  .**> 

Jilted    .     . .  .  91 

A  Cabin  Tale 95 

Possession    . 105 

A  Coquette  Conquered in 

Jealous 117 

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JOGGIN'    ERLONG 


JOGGIN'    ERLONG 

DE  da'kest  hour,  dey  allus  say, 
Is  des'  befo'  de  dawn, 
But  it's  moughty  ha'd  a-waitin' 
Were  de  night  goes  frownin'  on; 
An'  it 's  moughty  ha'd  a-hopin' 
Wen  de  clouds  is  big  an*  black, 
An*  all  de  t'ings  you  's  waited  fu' 
Has  failed,  er  gone  to  wrack  — 
But  des'  keep  on  a-joggin'  wid  a  little  bit  o' 

song, 
De   mo'n   is   allus   brightah   we'n   de   night 's 

been  long. 


•  ':• 


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Dey  's  lots  o'  knocks  you  's  got  to  tek 

Befo'  yo'  journey  's  done, 

An'   dey  's  times  w'en  you  '11  be   wishin' 

Dat  de  weary  race  was  run; 

W'en  you  want  to  give  up  tryin' 

An'  des'  float  erpon  de  wave, 

W'en  you  don't  feel  no  mo'  sorrer 

Ez  you  t'ink  erbout  de  grave  — 

Den,  des'  keep  on  a-joggin'  wid  a  little  bit  o' 

song, 
De   mo'n   is   allus   brightah   w'en   de   night 's 

been  long. 


' 


De  whup-lash  sting  a  good  deal  mo* 

De  back  hit 's  knowed  befo', 

An'  de  burden  's  allus  heavies' 

Whaih  hits  weight  has  made  a  so'; 

Dey  is  times  w'en  tribulation 

Seems  to  git  de  uppah  han' 

An'  to  whip  de  weary  trav'lah 

'Twell  he  ain't  got  stren'th  to  stan'  — 

But  des'  keep  on  a-joggin'  wid  a  little  bit  o' 

song, 
De   mo'n   is    allus   brightah   w'en   de   night 's 

been  long. 


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SLING   ALONG 


SLING   ALONG1 


SLING  along,  sling  along,  sling  along, 
De  moon  done  riz, 

Dem  eyes  o'  his, 

Done  sighted  you, 

Where  you  stopped  to  woo. 
Sling  along,  sling  along, 

It  ain't  no  use  fu'  to  try  to  hide, 

De  moonbeam  allus  at  yo'  side, 

He  hang  f'om  de  fence,  he  drap  f'om  de  limb, 

Dey  ain't  no  use  bein'  skeered  o'  him. 
Sling  along,  sling  along. 


1  This  is  the  last  dialect  poem  that  was  written  by  Mr.  Dunbar 
16 


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Sling  along,  sling  along,  sling  along, 

De  brook  hit  flow, 

Fu'  to  let  you  know, 

Dat  he  saw  dat  kiss, 

An*  he  know  yo'  bliss. 
Sling  along,  sling  along. 

He  run  by  yo'  side, 

An'  he  say  howdydo, 

He  ain't  gwine  to  tell  but  his  eye  's  on  you, 

You   can   lay   all   yo'   troubles   on   de   very 
highest  she'f, 

Fu'  de  little  ol'  brook's  jss'  a  talkin'  to  his 

se'f, 
Sling  along,  sling  along. 

Sling  along,  sling  along,  sling  along, 
De  'possum  grin, 
But  he  run  lak  sin, 
He  know  love  's  sweet, 
But  he  prize  his  meat. 

Sling  along,  sling  along. 

He  know  you  'd  stop  fu'  to  hunt  his  hide, 
If  you  los'  a  kiss  and  a  hug  beside, 
But  de  feas'  will  come  and  de  folks  will  eat, 
When  she  tek  yo'  han'  at  de  altah  seat. 

So  sling  along,  sling  along. 


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LONG   AGO 


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LONG   AGO 

DE  olf  time  's  gone,  de  new  time  's  hyeah 
Wid  all  hits  fuss  an'  feddahs; 
I  done  fu'got  de  joy  an*  cheah 

We  knowed  all  kin's  o'  weddahs, 
I  dene  fu'got  each  ol'-time  hymn 

We  ust  to  sing  in  meetin'; 
I 's  leahned  de  prah's,  so  neat  an*  trim, 
De  preachah  keeps  us  'peatin'. 

Hang  a  vine  by  de  chimney  side, 

An'  one  by  de  cabin  do' ; 
An'  sing  a  song  fu'  de  day  dat  died, 

De  day  of  long  ergo. 


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My  youf,  hit 's  gone,  yes,  long  ergo, 

An'  yit  I  ain't  a-moanin'; 
Hit 's  fu'  somet'ings  I  ust  to  know 

I   set  to-night  a-honin'. 
De  pallet  on  de  ol'  plank  flo', 

De  rain  bar'l  und'  de  eaves, 
De  live  oak  'fo'  de  cabin  do', 

Whaih  de  night  dove  comes  an'  grieves. 

Hang  a  vine  by  de  chimney  side, 

An'  one  by  de  cabin  do'; 
An'  sing  a  song  fu'  de  day  dat  died, 

De  day  of  long  ergo. 

24 


I  'd  lak  a  few  ol'  frien's  to-night 

To  come  an'  set  wid  me; 
An'  let  me  feel  dat  ol'  delight 

I  ust  to  in  dey  glee. 
But  hyeah  we  is,  my  pipe  an'  me, 

Wid  no  one  else  erbout; 
We  bofe  is  choked  ez  choked  kin  be, 

An'  bofe  '11  soon  go  out. 

Hang  a  vine  by  de  chimney  side, 
An'  one  by  de  cabin  do'; 

An'  sing  a  song  fu'  de  day  dat  died, 
De  day  of  long  ergo. 


KEEP  A  SONG  UP  ON  THE  WAY 


KEEP  A  SONG  UP  ON  THE  WAY 


O 


H,  de  clouds  is  mighty  heavy 
An'  de  rain  is  mighty  thick; 


Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 
An*  de  waters  is  a  rumblin' 
On  de  boulders  in  de  crick, 

Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 
Fu'  a  bird  ercross  de  road 
Is  a-singin'  lak  he  knowed 
Dat  we  people  did  n't  daih 
Fu'  to  try  de  rainy  aih 

Wid  a  song  up  on  de  way. 


What 's  de  use  o'  gittin'  mopy 
Case  de  weather  am'  de  bes'! 

Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 
Wen  de  rain  is  fallin'  ha'des', 
Dey  's  de  longes'  time  to  res' ; 

Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 
Dough  de  plough  's  a-stan'in'  still 
Dey  '11  be  watah  fu'  de  mill, 
Rain  mus'  come  ez  well  ez  sun 
'Fo'  de  weathah's  wo'k  is  done, 

Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 


28 

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W'y  hit 's  nice  to  hyeah  de  showahs 
Fallin'  down  ermong  de  trees: 

Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 
Ef  de  birds  don'  bothah  'bout  it, 
But  go  singin'  lak  dey  please, 

Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 
You  don'  s'pose  I 's  gwine  to  see 
Dem  ah  fowls  do  mo'  dan  me? 
No,  suh,   I  '11  des   chase  dis  frown, 
An'  aldough  de  rain  fall  down, 

Keep  a  song  up  on  de  way. 


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PHILOSOPHY 


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PHILOSOPHY 

I    BEEN   t'inkin'   'bout   de   preachah;    whut 
he  said  de  othah  night, 
'Bout  hit  bein'   people's   dooty   fu'  to  keep 

dey  faces  bright; 
How  one  ought  to  live  so  pleasant  dat  ouah 

tempah  never  riles, 

Meetin'   evahbody  roun'   us  wid  ouah  very 
nicest  smiles. 


Dat 's  all  right,   I   ain't  a-sputin,  not  a  t'ing 

dat  soun's  lak  fac', 
But  you  don't  ketch  folks  a-grinnin,  wid  a 

misery  in  de  back; 
An'  you  don't  fin*   dem  a-smilin'  w'en  dey  's 

hongry  ez  kin  be, 
Leastways,   dat 's   how   human   natur'   allus 

seems  to  'pear  to  me. 
We  is  mos'  all  putty  likely  fu'  to  have  our 

little  cares, 
An'  I  think  we  'se  doin'  fus'  rate  w'en  we 

jes'  go  long  and  bears, 
Widout  breakin'  up  ouah  faces  in  a  sickly  so't 

o'  grin, 

W'en  we  knows  dat  in  ouah  innards  we  is 
p'intly  mad  ez  sin. 

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Oh  dey  's  times  fu'  bein'  pleasant  an'  fu'  goin' 

smilin'  roun', 
'Cause  I  don't  believe  in  people  allus  totin' 

roun'  a  frown, 
But  it 's  easy  'nough  to  titter  w'en  de  stew  is 

smokin'  hot, 

But  hit 's  mighty  ha'd  to  giggle  w'en  dey  's 
nuffin'  in  de  pot. 


35 


NOON 


. 

. 

NOON 

SHADDER  in  de  valley 
Sunlight  on  de  hill, 
Sut'ny  wish  dat  locus' 
Knowed  how  to  be  still. 
Don't  de  heat  already 
Mek  a  body  hum, 
'Dout  dat  insec'  sayin* 
Hottah  days  to  come? 

Fiel'  's  a  shinin'  yaller 
Wid  de  bendin'  grain, 
Guinea  hen  a-callin', 
Now  's  de  time  fu'  rain ; 
Shet  yo'  mouf,  you  rascal, 
Wha'  's  de  use  to  cry? 
You  do'  see  no  rain  clouds 
Up  dah  in  de  sky. 

Dis  hyeah  sweat 's  been  po'in' 
Down  my  face  sence  dawn; 
Ain't  hit  time  we  's  hyeahin' 
Dat  ah  dinnah  ho'n? 
Go  on,  Ben  an'  Jaspah, 
Lif  yo'  feet  an'  fly, 
Hit  out  fu'  de  shadder 
Fo'  I  drap  an'  die. 
38 


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Hongry,  lawd  a'  mussy, 

Hongry  as  a  baih, 

Seems  lak  I  hyeah  dinnah 

Callin'  evahwhaih; 

Daih  's   de  ho'n   a  blowin' ! 

Let  dat  cradle  swin£, 

One  mo'  sweep,  den  da'kias, 

Beat  me  to  de  spring! 


39 


THE  VOICE  OF  THE   BANJO 


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THE  VOICE   OF  THE   BANJO 


IN   a   small   and   lonely   cabin   out   of  noisy 
traffic's  way, 
Sat  an  old  man,  bent  and  feeble,  dusk  of  face, 

and   hair   of   gray, 
And  beside   him   on  the   table,   battered,   old, 

and  worn  as  he, 

Lay  a  banjo,   droning  forth  this   reminiscent 
melody : 

"  Night  is  closing  in  upon  us,  friend  of  mine, 

but  don't  be  sad; 
Let  us  think  of  all  the  pleasures  and  the  joys 

that  we  have  had. 
Let  us  keep  a  merry  visage,  and  be  happy  till 

the  last, 
Let   the   future   still   be   sweetened   with   the 

honey  of  the  past. 


1 


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"  For  I  speak  to  you  of  summer  nights  upon 

the  yellow  sand, 
When   the   Southern   moon   was   sailing   high 

and  silvering  all  the  land; 
And  if  love  tales  were  not  sacred,  there  's  a  tale 

that  I  could  tell 
Of  your  many  nightly  wanderings  with  a  dusk 

and  lovely  belle. 


"  And  I  speak  to  you  of  care-free  songs  when 
labour's  hour  was  o'er, 

And  a  woman  waiting  for  your  step  outside 
the  cabin  door, 

And  of  something  roly-poly  that  you  took 
upon  your  lap, 

While  you  listened  for  the  stumbling,  hesitat- 
ing words,  '  Pap,  pap.' 


"  I  could  tell  you  of  a  'possum  hunt  across  the 
wooded  grounds, 

I  could  call  to  mind  the  sweetness  of  the  bay- 
ing of  the  hounds, 

You  could  lift  me  up  and  smelling  of  the  tim- 
ber that 's  in  me, 

Build  again  a  whole  green  forest  with  the 
mem'ry  of  a  tree. 


44 


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"  So  the  future  cannot  hurt  us  while  we  keep 
the  past  in  mind, 

What  care  I  for  trembling  fingers,  —  what  care 
you  that  you  are  blind? 

Time  may  leave  us  poor  and  stranded,  cir- 
cumstance may  make  us  bend; 

But  they  '11  only  find  us  mellower,  won't  they, 
comrade?  —  in  the  end." 


45 


THE   REAL   QUESTION 


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THE   REAL   QUESTION 

FOLKS  is  talkin'  'bout  de  money,  'bout  de 
silvah  an'  de  gold; 
All  de  time  de  season's  changin'  an'  de  days 

is  gittin'  cold. 
An'  dey  's  wond'rin'  'bout  de  metals,  whethah 

we  '11  have  one  er  two. 
While  de  price  o'  coal  is  risin'  an'  dey  's  two 
months'  rent  dat  's  due. 

Some  folks  says  dat  gold  's  de  only  money  dat 

is  wuff  de  name, 
Den  de  othahs  rise  an'  tell  'em  dat  dey  ought 

to  be  ashame, 
An'  dat  silvah  is  de  only  thing  to  save  us  f'om 

de  powah 
Of  de  gold-bug  ragin'  'roun'  an'  seekin'  who 

he  may  devowah. 

Well,  you  folks  kin  keep  on  shoutin'  wif  yo' 

gold  er  silvah  cry, 
But  I  tell  you  people  hams  is  sceerce  an'  fowls 

is  roostin'  high. 
An'  hit  ain't  de  so't  o'  money  dat  is  pesterin' 

my  min', 
But  de  question  I  want  answehed  's  how  to 

get  at  any  kin'! 

48 


AT    NIGHT 


AT    NIGHT 

WHUT  time'd  dat  clock  strike? 
Nine?     No  —  eight; 
I  did  n't  think  hit  was  so  late. 
Aer  chew!    I  must  'a'  got  a  cough, 
I  raally  b'lieve  I  did  doze  off  — 
Hit 's  mighty  soothin'  to  de  tiah, 
A-dozin'  dis  way  by  de  fiah; 

00  oom  —  hit  feels  so  good  to  stretch; 

1  sutny  is  one  weary  wretch! 

Look  hyeah,  dat  boy  done  gone  to  sleep! 
He  des  ain't  wo'th  his  boa'd  an'  keep; 
I  des  don't  b'lieve  he  'd  bat  his  eyes 
If  Gab'el  called  him  fo'm  de  skies! 
But  sleepin'  's  good  dey  ain't  no  doubt  — 
Dis  pipe  o'  mine  is  done  gone  out. 
Don't  bu'n  a  minute,  bless  my  soul, 
Des  please  to  han'  me  dat  ah  coal. 

You  'Lias  git  up  now,  my  son, 
Seems  lak  my  nap  is  des  begun; 
You  sutny  mus'  ma'k  down  de  day 
Wen  I  treats  comp'ny  dis  away! 
W'y,  Brother  Jones,  dat  drowse  come  on, 
An'  laws!     I  dremp  dat  you  was  gone! 
You  'Lias,  whaih  yo'  mannahs,  suh, 
To  hyeah  me  call  an'  nevah  stuh! 
52 


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To-morrer  mo'nin'  w'en  I  call, 
Dat  boy  '11  be  sleepin'  to  beat  all, 
Don't  mek  no  diffunce  how  I  roah, 
He  '11  des  lay  up  an'  sno',  an'  sno'. 
Now,  boy,  you  done  hyeahed  whut  I  said,. 
You  bettah  tek  yo'se'f  yo'  baid, 
Case  ef  you  gits  me  good  an'  wrong 
I  '11  mek  dat  sno'  a  diffunt  song. 

Dis  wood  fiah  is  invitin,  dho', 

Hit  seems  to  wa'm  de  ve'y  flo'  — 

An'  nuffin'  ain't  a  whit  ez  sweet 

Ez  settin'  toastin'  of  yo'  feet. 

Hit  mek  you  drowsy,  too,  but  la! 

Hyeah,  'Lias,  don't  you  hyeah  yo'  ma? 

Ef  I  gits  sta'ted  f'om  dis  cheah 

I'  lay,  you  scamp,  I'll  mek  you  heah! 


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To-morrer  mo'nin'  I  kin  bawl 
Twell  all  de  neighbohs  hyeah  me  call; 
An'  you'll  be  snoozin'  des  ez  deep 
Ez  if  de  day  was  made  fu'  sleep; 
Hit 's  funny  when  you  got  a  cough 
Somehow  yo'  voice  seems  too  fu'  off  — 
Can't  wake  dat  boy  fu'  all  I  say, 
I  reckon  he  '11  sleep  daih  'twell  day ! 


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55 


Hi 


TEMPTATION 


TEMPTATION 

I   DONE  got  'uligion,  honey,  an*  I 's  happy 
ez  a  king; 
Evahthing  I  see  erbout  me  's  jes'  lak  sunshine 

in  de  spring; 
An*  it  seems  lak  I   do'  want  to  do  anothah 

blessid  thing 

But  jes'  run  an'  tell  de  neighbours,  an'  to  shout 
an'  pray  an'  sing. 

I  done  shuk  my  fis'  at  Satan,  an'  I 's  gin  de 

worT  my  back; 
I  do'  want  no  hendrin'  causes  now  a-both'rin' 

in  my  track; 
Fu'  I 's  on  my  way  to  glory,  an'  I  feels  too  sho' 

to  miss. 
W'y,  dey  ain't  no  use  in  sinnin'  when  'uligion  's 

sweet  ez  dis. 


Talk  erbout  a  man  backslidin'  w'en  he  's  on 
de  gospel  way; 

No,  suh,  I  done  beat  de  debbil,  an'  Tempta- 
tion 's  los'  de  day. 

Gwine  to  keep  my  eyes  right  straight  up,  gwine 
to  shet  my  eahs,  an'  see 

Whut  ole  projick  Mistah  Satan  's  gwine  to  try 
to  wuk  on  me. 

58 


Listen,  whut  dat  soun'  I  hyeah  dah?  'tain't  no 

one  commence  to  sing; 
It 's  a  fiddle ;    git  erway  dah !    don'  you  hyeah 

dat  blessid  thing? 
W'y,  dat 's  sweet  ez  drippin'  honey,  'cause,  you 

knows,   I  draws  de  bow, 
An*  when  music  's  sho'  'nough  music,  I 's  de 

one  dat 's  sho'  to  know. 

W'y  I 's  done  de  double  shuffle,  'twell  a  body 

could  n't   res', 
Jes'  a-hyeahin'  Sam  de  fiddlah  play  dat  chune 

his  level  bes'; 
I   could   cut  a  mighty   caper,   I   could   gin   a 

mighty  fling 
Jes'  right  now,   I 's  mo'   dan  suttain  I   could 

cut  de  pigeon  wing. 


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Look  hyeah,  whut  's  dis  I 's  been  sayin'?  whut 

on  urf's  tuk  holt  o'   me? 
Dat  ole  music  come  nigh  runnin'  my  'uligion 

up  a  tree! 
Cleah  out  wif  dat  dah  ole  fiddle,  don*  you  try 

dat  trick  agin; 
Didn't  think  I  could  be  tempted,  but  you  lak 

to  made  me  sin! 


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SPRING   FEVER 


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SPRING   FEVER 

GRASS  commence  a-comin' 
Thoo  de  thawin'  groun', 
Evah  bird  dat  whistles 
Keepin'  noise  erroun'; 
Cain't   sleep   in  de  mo'nin', 

Case  befo'  it's  light 
Bluebird  an'  de  robin 
Done  begun  to  fight. 

Bluebird  sass  de  robin, 

Robin  sass  him  back, 
Den  de  bluebird  scol'  him 

'Twell  his  face  is  black. 
Would  n'  min'  de  quoilin' 

All  de  mo'nin'  long, 
'Cept  it  wakes  me  early, 

Case  hit's  done  in  song. 

Anybody  wo'kin 

Wants  to  sleep  ez  late 
Ez  de  folks  '11  'low  him, 

An'  I  wish  to  state 
(Co'se  dis  ain't  to  scattah, 

But  'twix'  me  an'  you), 
I  could  stan'  de  bedclothes, 

Kin'  o'  latah,  too. 
65 


IV  81 
<•  *  :Vj 


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'T  ain't  my  natchul  feelin', 

Dis  hyeah  mopin'  spell. 
I  Stan's  early  risin' 

Mos'ly  moughty  well; 
But  de  ve'y  minute 

I  feel  Ap'il's  heat, 
Bless  yo'  soul,  de  bedclothes 

Nevah  seemed  so  sweet. 

Mastah,  he  's  a-scol'in', 

Case  de  han's  is  slow, 
All  de  hosses  balkin', 

Jes'  cain't  mek  'em  go. 
Don'  know  whut 's  de  mattah, 

Hit 's  a  funny  t'ing, 
Less'n  hit 's  de  fevah 

Dat  you  gits  in  spring. 


m 


i 


1 


H 


A  LITTLE  CHRISTMAS  BASKET 


DE  win'  is  hollahin'  "  Daih  you  "  to  de  shut- 
tahs  an'  de  fiah, 

De  snow  's  a-sayin'  "  Got  you  "  to  de  groun', 
Fu'  de  wintah  weathah  's  come  widout  a-askin' 

ouah  desiah, 

An'  he  's  laughin'  in  his  sleeve  at  whut  he 
foun' ; 

Fu'  dey  ain't  nobody  ready  wid  dey  fuel  er  dey 

food, 

An'  de  money  bag  look  timid  lak,  fu'  sho', 
So  we  want  ouah  Chrismus  sermon,  but  we  'd 

lak  it  ef  you  could 
Leave  a  little  Chrismus  basket  at  de  do'. 

Wha's  de  use  o'  tellin'  chillen  'bout  a  Santy  er 

a  Nick, 

An'  de  sto'ies  dat  a  body  allus  tol'? 
When  de  harf  is  gray  wid  ashes  an'  you  has  n't 

got  a  stick 
Fu'  to  warm  dem  when  dey  little  toes  is  col'? 


'T  ain't  de  time  to  open  Bibles  an'  to  lock  yo' 

cellah  do', 

'T  ain't  de  time  to  talk  o'  bein'  good  to  men ; 
Ef  you  want  to  preach  a  sermon  ez  you  nevah 

preached  befo', 

Preach  dat  sermon  wid  a  shoat  er  wid  er  hen ; 
Bein'  good  is  heap  sight  bettah  den  a-dallyin' 

wid  sin, 

An'  dey  ain't  nobody  roun'  dat  knows  it  mo', 
But  I  t'ink  dat  'ligion  's  sweeter  w'en  it  kind  o' 

mixes  in 
Wid  a  little  Chrismus  basket  at  de  do'. 

Wha  's  de  use  o'  preachin'  'ligion  to  a  man  dat 's 

sta'ved  to  def, 

•rTtf-v**1^^  f  jr*'****  *  * 
An'  a-tellin'  him  de  Mastah  will  pu'vide? 

Ef  you  want  to  tech  his  feelin's,  save  yo'  ser- 
mons an'  yo'  bref, 
Tek  a  little  Chrismus  basket  by  yo'  side. 


AN   ANTI-BELLUM   SERMON 


« 


s 


.1  J 


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& 


1 


AN   ANTE-BELLUM  SERMON 

WE  is  gathahed  hyeah,  my  brothahs, 
In  dis  howlin'  wildaness, 
Fu'  to  speak  some  words  of  comfo't 

To  each  othah  in  distress. 
An'  we  chooses  fu'  ouah  subjic' 

Dis  —  we  '11  'splain  it  by  an'  by ; 
"  An'  de  Lawd  said,  *  Moses,  Moses,' 
An'  de  man  said,  '  Hyeah  am  I.'  " 

Now  ole  Pher'oh,  down  in  Egypt, 

Was  de  wuss  man  evah  bo'n, 
An'  he  had  de  Hebrew  chillun 

Down  dah  wukin'  in  his  co'n; 
'Twell  de  Lawd  got  tiahed  o'  his  foolin', 

An'  sez  he :  "I  '11  let  him  know  — 
Look  hyeah,  Moses,  go  tell  Pher'oh 

Fu'  to  let  dem  chillun  go." 

'  An'  ef  he  refuse  to  do  it, 

I  will  make  him  rue  de  houah, 
Fu'  I  '11  empty  down  on  Egypt 

All  de  vials  of  my  powah." 
Yes,  he  did  —  an'  Pher'oh's  ahmy 

Was  n't  wuth  a  ha'f  a  dime ; 
Fu'  de  Lawd  will  he'p  his  chillun, 

You  kin  trust  him  evah  time. 

75 


An*  yo'  enemies  may  'sail  you 
In  de  back  an'  in  de  front; 
But  de  Lawd  is 


shackles 


ill  aroun    yo 
a'  de  battle's  brunt, 
'ge  yo'  chains 
mountains  to  de  sea; 
But  de  Lawd  will  sen'  some  Moses 
chillun  free. 


Fu'  to 
Dey  kin 
F'om  c 


Fu'  to 


An'  de  Ian'  shall  hyeah  his  thundah, 

Lak  a  bias'  f'om  Gab'el's  ho'n, 
Fu'  de  Lawd  of  hosts  is  mighty 

When  he  girds  his  ahmor  on. 
But  fu'  feah  some  one  mistakes  me, 

I  will  pause  right  hyeah  to  say, 
Dat  I  'm  still  a-preachin'  ancient, 

I  ain't  talkin'  'bout  to-day. 


But  I  tell  you,  fellah  christuns, 

Things  '11  happen  mighty  strange ; 
Now,  de  Lawd  done  dis  fu'  Isrul, 

An*  his  ways  don't  nevah  change, 
An'  de  love  he  showed  to  Isrul 

Was  n't  all  on  Isrul  spent ; 
Now  don't  run  an'  tell  yo'  mastahs 

Dat  I 's  preachin'  .discontent. 

'Cause  I  is  n't ;    I  'se  a-judgin' 

Bible  people  by  deir  ac's; 
I  'se  a-givin'  you  de  Scriptuah, 

I  'se  a-handin'  you  de  fac's. 
Cose  ole  Pher'oh  b'lieved  in  slav'ry, 

But  de  Lawd  he  let  him  see, 
Dat  de  people  he  put  bref  in,  — 

Evah  mothah's  son  was  free. 

An'  dahs  othahs  thinks  lak  Pher'oh, 

But  dey  calls  de  Scriptuah  liar, 
Fu'  de  Bible  says  "  a  servant 

Is  a-worthy  of  his  hire." 
An*  you  cain't  git  roun'  nor  thoo  dat, 

An'  you  cain't  git  ovah  it, 
Fu'  whatevah  place  you  git  in, 

Dis  hyeah  Bible  too  '11  fit. 


79 


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! 


So  you  see  de  Lawd's  intention, 

Evah  sence  de  worl'  began, 
Was  dat  His  almighty  freedom 

Should  belong  to  evah  man, 
But  I  think  it  would  be  bettah, 

Ef  I  'd  pause  agin  to  say, 
Dat  I  'm  talkin'  'bout  ouah  freedom 

In  a  Bibleistic  way. 

But  de  Moses  is  a-comin', 

An'  he  's  comin'  suah  and  fas'. 
We  kin  hyeah  his  feet  a-trompin', 

We  kin  hyeah  his  trumpit  bias'. 
But  I  want  to  wa'n  you  people, 

Don't  you  git  too  frigity; 
An'  don't  you  git  to  braggin' 

'Bout  dese  things,  you  wait  an'  see. 


But  when  Moses  wif  his  powah 

Comes  an'  sets  us  chillun  free, 
We  will  praise  de  gracious  Mastah 

Dat  has  gin  us  liberty; 
An'  we  '11  shout  ouah  halleluyahs, 

On  dat  mighty  reck'nin'  day, 
When  we  'se  reco'nised  ez  citiz'  — 

Huh  uh!     Chillun,  let  us  pray! 


™  :*&-&:  *^; 

m          II 


A   FROLIC 


m 


A   FROLIC 

SWING  yo'  lady  roun'  an'  roun', 
Do  de  bes'  you  know; 
Mek  yo'  bow  an*  p'omenade 

Up  an'  down  de  flo'; 
Mek  dat  banjo  hump  huhse'f, 

Listen  at  huh  talk: 
Mastah  gone  to  town  to-night; 
'T  ain't  no  time  to  walk. 

Lif  yo'  feet  an'  flutter  thoo, 

Run,  Miss  Lucy,  run; 
Reckon  you  '11  be  kotched  an'  kissed 

'Fo'  de  night  is  done. 
You  don't  need  to  be  so  proud  — 

I 's  a-watchin'  you, 
An'  I 's  layin'  lots  o'  plans 

Fu'  to  git  you,  too. 

Moonlight  on  de  cotton-fiel' 

Shinin'  sof,  an'  white, 
Whippo'will  a-tellin'  tales 

Out  thaih  in  de  night; 
An'  yo'  cabin  's  'crost  de  lot : 

Run,  Miss  Lucy,  run; 
Reckon  you  '11  be  kotched  an'  kissed 

'Fo'  de  night  is  done. 
84 


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A   PLANTATION    MELODY 

trees  is  bendin'  in  de  sto'm, 
De  rain  done  hid  de  mountain's  fo'm, 
I 's  'lone  an'  in  distress. 
But  listen,  dah  's  a  voice  I  hyeah, 
A-sayin'  to  me,  loud  an'  cleah, 
"  Lay  low  in  de  wildaness." 

De  lightnin'  flash,  de  bough  sway  low, 
My  po'  sick  hea't  is  trimblin'  so, 

It  hu'ts  my  very  breas'. 
But  him  dat  give  de  lightnin'  powah 
Jes'  bids  me  in  de  tryin'  howah 

"  Lay  low  in  de  wildaness." 


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O  brothah,  w'en  de  tempes'  beat, 
An'  w'en  yo'  weary  head  an'  feet 

Can't  fin'  no  place  to  res', 
Jes'  'membah  dat  de  Mastah  's  nigh, 
An*  putty  soon  you  '11  hyeah  de  cry, 

"  Lay  low  in  de  wildaness." 

O  sistah,  w'en  de  rain  come  down, 
An'  all  yo'  hopes  is  'bout  to  drown, 

Don't  trus'  de  Mastah  less. 
He  smilin'  w'en  you  t'ink  he  frown, 
He  ain'  gwine  let  yo'  soul  sink  down 

Lay  low  in  de  wildaness. 


:;S^1F   'i 


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JILTED 


LUCY  done  gone  back  on  me, 
Dat  's  de  way  wif  life. 
Evaht'ing  was  movin'  free, 

T'ought  I  had  my  wife. 
Den  some  dahky  comes  along, 
Sings  my  gal  a  little  song, 
Since  den,  evaht'ing  's  gone  wrong, 
Evah  day  dey  's  strife. 

Did  n't  answeh  me  to-day, 

Wen  I  called  huh  name, 
Would  you  t'ink  she  'd  ac'  dat  way 

Wen  I  ain't  to  blarne? 
Dat 's  de  way  dese  v/omen  do, 
Wen  dey  fin's  a  fellow  true, 
Den  dey  'buse  him  thoo  an'  thoo; 

Well,  hit's  all  de  same. 
92 


Somep'n  's  wrong  erbout  my  lung, 

An'  I 's  glad  hit 's  so. 
Doctah  says  'at  I  '11  die  young, 

Well,  I  wants  to  go! 
Whut  's  de  use  o'  livin'  hyeah, 
Wen  de  gal  you  loves  so  deah 
Goes  back  on  you  clean  an'  cleah  — 

I  sh'd  like  to  know? 


93 


A  CABIN   TALE 


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m 


^^^^^.^iMl^S^ 

A   CABIN   TALE 

THE    YOUNG   MASTER    ASKS    FOR   A   STORY 

WHUT  you  say,  dah?  huh,  uh!  chile, 
You  's  enough  to  dribe  me  wile. 
Want  a  sto'y!  jes'  hyeah  dat! 
Whah'  '11  I  git  a  sto'y  at? 
Di'n'  I  tell  you  th'ee  las'  night? 
Go  'way,  honey,  you  ain't  right. 
I  got  somep'n'  else  to  do 
'Cides  jes'  tellin'  tales  to  you. 
Tell  you  jes'  one?     Lem  me  see 
Whut  dat  one  's  a-gwine  to  be. 
When  you  's  ole  yo'  membry  fails ; 
Seems  lak  I  do'  know  no  tales. 
Well,  set  down  dah  in  dat  cheer, 
Keep  still  ef  you  wants  to  hyeah. 
Tek  dat  chin  up  off  yo'  han's, 
Set  up  nice  now.     Goodness  lan's! 
Hoi'  yo'se'f  up  lak  yo'  pa. 
Bet  nobidy  evah  saw 

Him  scrunched  down  lak  you  was  den — 
High-tone  boys  meks  high-tone  men. 

Once  dey  was  a  ole  black  bah, 
Used  to  live  'roun'  hyeah  somewhah 
In  a  cave.     He  was  so  big 
He  could  ca'y  off  a  pig 
Lak  you  picks  a  chicken  up, 
Er  yo'  leetles'  bit  o'  pup. 
An'  he  had  two  gread  big  eyes, 
Jes'  erbout  a  saucer's  size. 

7  97 


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.  . 

Why,  dey  looked  lak  balls  o'  fiah 
Jumpin'  'roun'  erpon  a  wiah 
W'en  dat  bah  was  mad;  an'  laws! 
But  you  ought  to  seen  his  paws! 
Did  I  see  'em?     How  you  'spec 
I 's  a-gwine  to  ricollec' 
Dis  hyeah  ya'n  I 's  try'n'  to  spin 
Ef  you  keeps  on  puttin'  in? 
You  keep  still  an'  don't  you  cheep 
Less  I  '11  sen'  you  off  to  sleep. 
Dis   hyeah   bah  'd   go   trompin'   'roun' 
Eatin'  evahthing  he  foun'; 
No  one  could  n't  have  a  fa'm 
But  dat  bah  'u'd  do  'em  ha'm; 
And  dey  could  n't  ketch  de  scamp. 
Anywhah  he  wan'ed  to  tramp, 
Dah  de  scoun'el  'd  mek  his  track, 
Do  his  dut'  an'  come  on  back. 
He  was  sich  a  sly  ole  limb, 
Traps  was  jes'  lak  fun  to  him. 

Now,  down  neah  whah  Mistah  Bah 
Lived,  dey  was  a  weasel  dah; 
But  dey  wasn't  fren's  a-tall 
Case  de  weasel  was  so  small. 
An'  de  bah  'u'd,  jes'  fu'  sass, 
Tu'n  his  nose  up  w'en  he  'd  pass. 
Weasels  's  small  o'  cose,  but  my ! 
Dem  air  animiles  is  sly. 
So  dis  hyeah  one  says,  says  he, 
"I'll  jes'  fix  dat  bah,  you  see." 

99 


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So  he  fixes  up  his  plan 

An*  hunts  up  de  fa'merman. 

When  de  fa'mer  see  him  come, 

He  'mence  lookin'  mighty  glum, 

An'  he  ketches  up  a  stick; 

But  de  weasel  speak  up  quick: 

"  Hoi'  on,  Mistah  Fa'merman, 

I  wan'  'splain  a  little  plan. 

Ef  you  waits,  I  '11  tell  you  whah 

An'  jes'  how  to  ketch  ol'  Bah. 

But  I  tell  you  now  you  mus* 

Gin  me  one  fat  chicken  fus'." 

Den  de  man  he  scratch  his  haid, 

Las'  he  say,  "  I  '11  mek  de  trade." 

So  de  weasel  et  his  hen, 

Smacked  his  mouf  and  says,  "  Well,  den, 

Set  yo'  trap  an'  bait  ternight, 

An'  I'll  ketch  de  bah  all  right." 

Den  he  ups  an'  goes  to  see 

Mistah  Bah,  an'  says,  says  he: 

"  Well,  fren  Bah,  we  ain't  been  fren's, 

But  ternight  ha'd  feelin'  en's. 

Ef  you  ain't  too  proud  to  steal, 

We  kin  git  a  splendid  meal. 

Cose  I  would  n't  come  to  you, 

But  it  mus'  be  done  by  two; 

Hit's  a  trap,  but  we  kin  beat 

All  dey  tricks  an'  git  de  meat." 

"  Cose  I 's  wif  you,"  says  de  bah, 

"  Come  on,  Weasel,  show  me  whah." 

Well,  dey  trots  erlong  ontwell 


~Jt 


Dat  air  meat  beginned  to  smell 
In  de  trap.     Den  weasel  say: 
"  Now  you  put  yo'  paw  dis  way 
While  I  hoi'  de  spring  back  so, 
Den  you   grab   de  meat   an'   go." 
Well,  de  bah  he  had  to  grin 
Ez  he  put  his  big  paw  in, 
Den  he  juked  up,  but  —  kerbing! 
Weasel  done  let  go  de  spring. 
"  Dah  now,"  says  de  weasel,  "  dah, 
I  done  cotched  you,  Mistah  Bah ! " 
O,  dat  bah  did  sno't  and  spout, 
Try'n'  his  bestes'  to  git  out, 
But  de  weasel  say,  "  Goo'-bye ! 
Weasel  small,  but  weasel  sly." 
Den  he  tu'ned  his  back  an'  run 
Tol'  de  fa'mer  whut  he  done. 
So  de  fa'mer  come  down  dah, 
Wif  a  axe  and  killed  de  bah. 

Dah  now,  ain't  dat  sto'y  fine? 
Run  erlong  now,  nevah  min'. 
Want  some  mo',  you  rascal,  you? 
No,  suh !   no,  suh !    dat  '11  do. 


WJM 


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POSSESSION 


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POSSESSION 

WHOSE  little  lady  is  you,  chile, 
Whose  little  gal  is  you? 
What's  de  use  o'  kiver'n  up  yo'  face? 

Chile,  dat  ain't  de  way  to  do. 
Lemme  see  yo'  little  eyes, 

Tek  yo'  little  han's  down  nice, 
Lawd,  you  wuff  a  million  bills, 
Huh  uh,  chile,  dat  ain't  yo'  price. 

Honey,  de  money  ain't  been  made 

Dat  dey  could  pay  fu'  you; 
'T  ain't  no  use  a-biddin' ;    you  too  high 

Fu'  de  riches'  Jap  er  Jew. 
Lemme  see  you  smilin'  now, 

How  dem  teef  o'  yo'n  do  shine, 
An'  de  t'ing  dat  meks  me  laff 

Is  dat  all  o'  you  is  mine. 

How's  I  gwine  to  tell  you  how  I  feel, 
How's  I  gwine  to  weigh  yo'  wuff? 

Oh,  you  sholy  is  de  sweetes'  t'ing 
Walkin'  on  dis  blessed  earf. 

Possum  is  de  sweetes'  meat, 
Cidah  is  de  nices'  drink, 


^i 


But  my  little  lady-bird 

t*s  Vi*.*  ••'. 

Is  de  bes'  of  all,  I  t'ink. 

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Talk  erbout  'uligion  he'pin'  folks 

All  thoo  de  way  o'  life, 
Gin  de  res'  'uligion,  des'  gin  me 

You,  my  little  lady-wife. 
Den  de  days  kin  come  all  ha'd, 

Den  de  nights  kin  come  all  black, 
Des'  you  tek  me  by  de  han', 

An'  I  '11  stumble  on  de  track. 

Stumble  on  de  way  to  Gawd,  my  chile, 

Stumble  on,  an'  mebbe  fall; 
But  I  '11  keep  a-trottin',  while  you  lead  on, 

Pickin'  an'  a-trottin',  dat 's  all. 
Hoi'  me  mighty  tight,  dough,  chile, 

Fu'  hit 's  rough  an'  rocky  Ian', 
Heaben  's  at  de  en',  I  know, 

So  I 's  leanin'  on  yo'  han'. 


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YES,  my  ha't  's  ez  ha'd  ez  stone  — 
Go  'way,  Sam,  an'  lemme  'lone. 
No ;    I  ain't  gwine  change  my  min'  — 
Ain't  gwine  ma'y  you  —  nuffin'  de  kin'. 

Phiny  loves  you  true  an'  deah? 
Go  ma'y  Phiny;  whut  I  keer? 
Oh,  you  need  n't  mou'n  an'  cry  — 
I  don't  keer  how  soon  you  die. 

Got  a  present!     Whut  you  got? 
Somef'n  fu'  de  pan  er  pot! 
Huh!  yo'  sass  do  sholy  beat  — 
Think  I  don't  git  'nough  to  eat? 


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Whut's  dat  un'neaf  yo'  coat? 
Looks  des  lak  a  little  shoat. 
'T  ain't  no  possum!     Bless  de  Lamb! 
Yes,  it  is,  you  rascal,  Sam! 

Gin  it  to  me;   whut  you  say? 
Ain't  you  sma't  now!     Oh,  go  'way! 
Possum  do  look  mighty  nice, 
But  you  ax  too  big  a  price. 

Tell  me,  is  you  talkin'  true, 

Dat 's  de  gal's  whut  ma'ies  you? 

Come  back,  Sam;    now  whah 's  you  gwine? 

Co'se  you  knows  dat  possum  's  mine ! 

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JEALOUS 

YEAH  come   Caesar  Higgins, 

Don't  he  think  he's  fine? 
Look  at  dem  new  riggin's, 
Ain't  he  tryin'  to  shine? 
Got  a  standin'  collar 
An'  a  stove-pipe  hat, 
I  '11  jes'  bet  a  dollar 
Some  one  gin  him  dat. 

Don't  one  o'  you  mention, 
Nothin'  'bout  his  cloes, 
Don't  pay  no  attention, 
Er  let  on  you  knows 
Dat  he  's  got  'em  on  him, 
Why,  't  '11  mek  him  sick, 
Jes  go  on  an'  sco'n  him, 
My,  ain't  dis  a  trick! 

Look  hyeah,  whut  's  he  doin* 
Lookin'  t'  othah  way? 
Dat  ere  move  's  a  new  one, 
Some  one  call  him,  "Say?" 
Can't  you  see  no  pusson  — 
Puttin'  on  you'  airs, 
Sakes  alive,  you  's  wuss'n 
Dese  hyeah  millionaires. 

118 


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Need  n't  git  so  flighty, 

Case  you  got  dat  suit. 

Dem  does  ain't  so  mighty,  — 

Second  hand  to  boot, 

I 's  a-tryin'  to  spite  you ! 

Full  of  jealousy! 

Look  hyeah,  man,  I  '11  fight  you, 

Don't  you  fool  wid  me ! 


"9 


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